


Educated

by sinestrated



Series: Past Tense [8]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Married Couple, Mentions of Racism, Pre-Season 1, Protective!Din, Size Kink, Strength Kink, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinestrated/pseuds/sinestrated
Summary: A new arrival at the Covert makes some assumptions about Paz, much to Din’s annoyance.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Series: Past Tense [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675399
Comments: 12
Kudos: 333





	Educated

Din loved  _ cu’bikad. _ He’d been playing it pretty much from the moment he was adopted as a foundling, and every aspect of the game appealed to him, from the dozen-steps-ahead formulation of his attack strategy, to the surge of triumph every time he ousted an opponent’s foreblade, to the razor-edge of violence that came with stabbing the long, thin knives into the rounded, malleable synthspen board. It was a Mandalorian game through and through, and whenever he had downtime between going out on jobs and spending time with his family he was usually in the Covert’s rec room challenging someone to a game.

Of course, calling it a rec room was pretty generous. The underground spaces of the Nevarro sewers were tiny on a good day, and the area where members of their tribe liked to gather to socialize and play games was merely a chamber slightly bigger than the rest, with the  _ cu’bikad _ board in one corner, a low table where friends could clean weapons and chat in the center, and a small bookshelf on the opposite end filled with about two dozen old datapads. The members of the tribe drifted in and out of the room throughout the day depending on their moods, and right now there were only four people present: Inyc, their medic, kept Paz company by the bookshelf, and Din was playing  _ cu’bikad _ against Adar Gulayl.

And boy, was the other Mandalorian giving him a run for his money. Adar was a new arrival at the Covert, having only joined them in the sewers about a week ago. Din hadn’t had much interaction with him thus far but from what he’d seen Adar was smart, with a mind as sharp as a newly-forged vibroblade. He could carry on a conversation about anything no matter how complex the subject, and he had a good sense of humor, but from a couple comments he’d made Din also suspected he was the type of person who had allowed the idea of his intelligence to inflate his head beyond his helm. In fact, Din suspected the only reason Adar had invited him to a game this afternoon was because he wanted to prove himself equal to the tribe’s  _ beroya. _

Normally, Din would’ve refused. He had nothing to prove and he was above petty competitions like this. But Paz wanted to catch up on some reading so he could help Roan with his school project, and Din would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with his husband even if it was on opposite sides of a room. So he’d agreed, and now here he and Adar were, quietly conducting a full-scale war on a small game table while Paz scrolled through datapads and grumbled to himself and occasionally asked Inyc to define words he didn’t recognize.

Din, for his part, had a solid strategy going, and had already managed to oust two of Adar’s foreblades back to the home circle. But Adar was cunning and seemed to have at least three tactical approaches going at once, and Din had already had to use two contingencies and sacrifice three pawnblades and if he didn’t get his head into this fucking game there was a really decent chance the other Mandalorian was going to wipe the floor with him.

He sat back a little on the soft cushioned seat and tried not to squirm. It certainly didn’t help that Paz had fucked him good that morning, big hand clamped over Din’s mouth so they wouldn’t wake the kids as he slid his thick throbbing cock into him over and over, everything lit up in pleasure and heat. They’d cleaned up after but his hole was still loose and a little sensitive, that spot deep inside him aching in the most delicious of ways and Din couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at Paz, his husband’s broad body hunched ridiculously over the tiny datapad he was currently reading.

“Fre...Freni...” Paz sighed and held the datapad up to Inyc, who was cleaning her rifle. “This one?”

“Frenetic,” she answered, patient and nonjudgmental as always. “Means energetic and sort of out of control.”

“Okay.” Paz cocked his head; Din could almost see his frown beneath his helm. “And this one? Eff...rev...chee...”

Oh, he could help with that one. “Effervesce,” Din called over his shoulder, raising his voice so Paz could hear him. “Remember that poem Ruun was reading last week? With the word ‘effervescent’? It’s the verb form.”

“Oh! So if it’s in a novel it’s probably not the bubbles but like, the feelings?”

“Yes, exactly.” Din smiled at him, even though he knew Paz couldn’t see it. “See, you’ve got the memory for this.”

“Tch. We’ll see if my son agrees.” Paz’s voice was light, though, so Din let it go. It was nice, these rare opportunities to really coparent with Paz, swapping duties for their kids as they should as a married couple. Din had helped Ruun with her literature project last week, and he’d been happy to hand over Roan’s book study to his husband this week. And if Paz needed any additional help, he had no problem asking.

Across the board, Adar emitted a soft snort. Din turned back. “What?”

“Nothing. Just...you know.” The other Mandalorian waved his pawnblade vaguely in Paz’s direction. “He probably called out sick a lot at school.”

Din narrowed his eyes. “Or he just doesn’t know a few words.”

“Yeah.” Adar peered down at the board, twirling the pawnblade once between his fingers before casting it down two spaces left with a solid  _ thunk. _ “Check. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good he’s here. We need someone who can shoot a big gun.”

Din grunted and moved his foreblade three diagonals. “He’s more than just heavy weaponry.”

“Sure.”  _ Thunk.  _ “Just not much in the intelligence department, right? Check.”

Behind them, Paz grumbled again. “Limi...what the fuck, how is this even a word? Limi...na...”

“Liminality,” Inyc answered, but Din didn’t get to hear her definition because Adar shook his head with a soft laugh.

“All brawn and no brains,” the other Mandalorian muttered, and oh, that was  _ it. _

Din turned around. “Hey, love,” he called, and felt more than saw Adar stiffen.

“Yeah?”

“The infiltration we did for that Kazpailaf bounty three months ago. You remember the specs?”

“Sure,” Paz answered, not looking up from his datapad.

“Why’d you pick an assault from Sublevel 6 instead of the elevator shaft?”

“It was Sublevel 7 and it’s stupid,” his husband answered. “Transport tubes, ventilation, and exhaust outputs are all unshielded. Guards would hear us coming from a mile away. And the sentry overlaps just made it easier: seventy-eight second intervals, with an average increase of nine seconds per level because people are fucking lazy.”

“And your choice of ordnance?”

“What, you mean using PN-46 softblasts instead of the standard Bujin explosives? Wouldn’t have mattered if Kazpailaf weren’t so fucking creepy with their half-human, half-machine...thing. Had to maintain target integrity. PNs have lower-frequency shockwaves, the lambda’s close to 960 micrometers, so spacing them seventeen meters apart would ensure unconsciousness on simultaneous detonation with minimal damage to the organic motherboard.”

Here Paz finally lowered his datapad, turning to cock his helm at Din. “We already did the debrief for this. Why are you asking?”

“No real reason.” Din turned back to Adar. The other Mandalorian had fallen silent, shoulders stiff, and with perhaps a touch more viciousness than strictly necessary he picked up his knightblade and slammed it down into the board. “Check fucking mate,” he hissed, “and if you insult my husband again I’ll stab this into your eyeball through your fucking visor.”

Adar spluttered. Din rose and crossed the room, laying a hand on Paz’s pauldron. “Let’s go.”

His husband must have sensed something was wrong because he didn’t argue, just set the datapad down and got to his feet. As they turned and headed out, Din swore he heard Inyc snicker.

#

“What’s going on?” Paz asked, as the door to their living unit slid shut behind them.

Setting his helm down on the table, Din shook his head. The anger surged forth sudden and strong as a lightning strike. “You’re not an idiot!”

Paz blinked. “Uh. Thanks?”

“And I hate that everyone seems to think that you are!”

“Well, I sure hope ‘everyone’ in this case doesn’t include you...”

“ _ Paz. _ ”

“Okay, okay.” The older man stepped forward, strong arms wrapping around him, solid and comforting and Din sighed, felt himself relax a little as Paz murmured, “What happened?”

“Fucking  _ Adar Gulayl, _ ” Din snarled, and told him.

By the time he was done Paz’s hold on him had tightened, and even though he didn’t growl Din could tell it was a close thing. “Looks like my fist has got a date with someone’s face tomorrow.”

“I took care of it.” Din slid his hand under Paz’s tunic to rest his palm against his stomach. “I just...I  _ hate _ it, how he just looked at you and assumed...”

“Well.” Paz’s shoulders sagged. “I mean, it’s not like he’s wrong. I’m not sharp with this stuff, Din, been that way since I was a kid, they always said growing up I was gonna be a lost cause—”

“Then they were wrong!” The vehemence of the words startled even himself, and Din pulled back to rest his hands on Paz’s shoulders, staring straight into his husband’s eyes. “Do you hear me? Every single one of those fuckers was  _ wrong. _ ”

Paz didn’t talk much about his childhood. Din sensed the older man simply didn’t think it all that important, but the truth was the little glimpses Paz had allowed him over the years never failed to make his blood boil. Clan Vizsla had prestige and wealth, yes, but with that came shadows, ugly poisonous things that could only take root and fester in those dark corners made possible by too much light. Paz’s mothers had tried their best to shield him from the worst of it, but in the end being the only dark-skinned foundling in a tribe full of slim, perfect, blue-eyed fair-haired youths had taken its toll. More often than not Paz’s only choices had been to either be attacked or be invisible, and as the years passed he’d gotten into the habit of the latter. 

It might have been funny given his size, except the first time Din had approached Paz all those years ago, shyly offering to begin a courtship, Paz had actually assumed he’d gotten him mixed up with someone else in the Covert. It had taken Din three tries to convince the older Mandalorian his intentions were true, that he wasn’t playing a prank or looking to “experiment” or something equally asinine, and as the years progressed and they grew closer and eventually married Din had applied himself to erasing as much of that self-doubt in his husband as he could. And it worked too: Paz was so much more confident now, less prone to leap to aggression and more comfortable asking for help when he needed it, but knowing there were still parts of his husband that believed himself unworthy, that just because his skin was dark and his brain worked differently it somehow made him  _ less than... _

He shook his head and reached down to grasp Paz’s hands, firm and gun-callused and oh so strong. “You are  _ mandokarla _ in every sense of the word,” he said, fierce, as Paz blinked down at him. “You are invaluable to this Covert and a perfect father to our kids, and you are  _ everything _ to me.”

Paz swallowed, and his smile was light but there was something heavy in his gaze as he squeezed Din’s fingers. “Even if I don’t know what limi-whatever means?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Din said. “And I married a warrior, not a fucking wordsmith.”

“Hm. True,” Paz said, and kissed him.

There was nothing chaste about it and Din sighed and arched up into his husband, pressing as close as possible as Paz slid their tongues together, everything heat and slickness and warm, head-spinning desire. Sex hadn’t initially been his intention but as usual his body had no trouble getting on board, cock fattening up hot and throbbing between his legs as Paz’s broad hand reached down to grope his ass. Then his husband hauled him forward to press their hips together and Din moaned at the thick, hot erection that dragged against his own and all of a sudden there were just too many layers between him and what he wanted.

He pulled back to attack Paz’s fly, breathless, but paused when strong fingers wrapped around his wrist. Looking up, he saw his husband watching him with a mixture of what looked like awe and something so much softer, an instant before Paz crowded him backward a few steps until his back hit the wall.

The older man pressed close then and Din went a little lightheaded at his touch and the safety of his scent, shivering at the light puffs of breath over his skin as Paz leaned in to whisper in his ear, “You defended my honor. So let me do the work.”

And then he sank to his knees, big hands coming up to unclasp Din’s fly and Din could only groan and thunk his head back against the wall as Paz freed his erection, the cool air of the room shocking on his hot skin. Paz didn’t hesitate, leaning in to nuzzle the shaft, and Din sighed and wound his hands carefully into those thick, dark brown dreadlocks as his husband opened his mouth and swallowed him down.

“F-Fuck!” The sudden shock of wet heat enveloping his cock had Din jerking his hips forward but Paz didn’t seem to mind, humming low in his throat as he hollowed his cheeks and took him deeper, sliding forward inch by inch until finally the head of Din’s cock bumped against the back of his throat. He lifted back then a little to breathe as the hand locked around Din’s thigh pulled ever so slightly, encouraging him to thrust, and Din could only moan and obey, legs shaking as he rocked forward into Paz’s warm, welcoming mouth.

It was, as usual, fucking divine. Paz enjoyed giving head just as much as Din did so over the last couple of years they’d both gotten in a decent amount of practice, enough so that Din was able to fuck forward with hardly any resistance, stuffing his husband’s throat over and over, moaning at the warm sucking heat of it. Paz put his tongue to work too, swirling beneath Din’s cockhead and along the veins on the sides, everything lighting up in pleasure and heat and it wasn’t a couple minutes before Din was gasping and thrusting desperately forward, voice breaking as he tugged at Paz’s hair. “Baby, I—Jen’Issik, if you don’t s-stop—”

Paz hummed and pulled off and Din panted as he stared down at his husband’s lips, swollen and shiny with saliva and precome. Sometime while his brain was lost in the stratosphere Paz had managed to remove his cuisses and greaves and pull his pants down to his ankles, the soft material pooling around his boots and Din quickly stepped out of them as the telltale crack of a lube capsule echoed in the quiet of the room. Then before he could say anything Paz dove back in, suckling the tip of his cock and Din hissed and stuttered his hips forward, head spinning at the first brush of slick fingers behind his balls and then further back.

Paz asked the question with his body rather than words, one finger gently tracing Din’s rim without entering. Din sighed and spread his legs. Paz’s grateful hum vibrated down his length, making his knees weak even as his husband’s fingers pressed up and in.

He was already loose from their round this morning so his body accepted the intrusion easily, only a slight soreness that almost immediately melted into white-hot pleasure when Paz found his prostate and pressed against it. Din keened and fucked forward, stuffing Paz’s mouth before sinking back onto his fingers, a fire burning deep in his belly greedy and hot. Gods, there was nothing like it, loving someone so fucking much your body just couldn’t get enough. Din moaned and let Paz play him like an instrument, flames licking up his spine as thick fingers pumped in and out of his hole even as he lost himself in the warm heaven of his husband’s mouth. It was perfect and yet it wasn’t  _ enough _ —more than Paz’s fingers he wanted his cock, wanted Paz to fuck him until he was dripping with it, until he stank of their sex and couldn’t walk straight, until Adar and Inyc and everyone in the whole fucking Covert could take one look at him and see just how lucky Din was to have a husband who could do him so well.

“Paz,” he whispered, then nearly crumpled when another well-aimed crook of his husband’s fingers sent a lightning-bolt of pleasure up his spine. “ _ Ahh!  _ P-Paz, baby,  _ please... _ ”

Paz finally took pity on him. Din groaned as those lovely thick fingers pulled out, struggling for breath as his husband straightened up and pressed a second lube capsule into his palm. “Gonna need your help,” he said, with a crooked grin. “My hands gotta have good grip.”

Din would deny to the end of his days the low, desperate noise that escaped his mouth at that. Holy fuck, they were gonna...he couldn’t even bring himself to care about the hungry way he dove at Paz’s pants, undoing the clasp and drawing his long, thick cock out with one hand as he cracked the capsule with the other.

Slippery fluid burst over his fingers and he reached down to slick his husband up, mouth watering at the feel of thick flesh against his palm, the slow sensual slide of the hot veined shaft. Paz grunted and fucked forward into his fist a couple of times, and that was definitely a smug glint in his husband’s eyes as he reached forward to grasp the backs of Din’s thighs, Din’s hands coming automatically up to his shoulders. “Ready?”

Din gulped and felt his cheeks heat when he realized he’d nodded even before Paz asked. The older man just laughed and tightened his grip. “Here we go.”

And then he surged forward, braced, and  _ lifted. _

Din’s stomach dropped the first half-second because  _ wait what the fuck where’s the fucking floor, _ but in the next instant the rest of his brain clicked on as his back hit plaster and all of a sudden he was looking down at Paz, Paz who had his thighs braced over his hips and was  _ holding him up against the fucking wall _ and. Well.

Thing was, Din loved having sex with his husband. Didn’t matter where they were or how they did it, there wasn’t anything he and Paz tried that he didn’t enjoy the hell out of, didn’t have him panting and squirming and begging for more. But  _ this. _ He’d only admit it under duress but being fucked like this was basically his favorite position in the history of ever, even though they couldn’t do it often. Paz wasn’t as young as he used to be and half the time he came out of it with back pain, so it was something Din had just come to accept about their marriage, that they’d only rarely be able to indulge him in this way. And he was okay with that, really he was, because he didn’t need to hit every single kink to love Paz. As long as he had his husband here, he was happy.

But oh, when they  _ did _ do it.

Paz Vizsla was strong; you didn’t have to be married to him to know that. But there was strength and then there was  _ strength,  _ and Din knew he himself wasn’t a small guy so being just  _ lifted _ like this, held up and manhandled into position because Paz wanted him there...gods, it  _ did  _ something to him, sparked something deep in his wiring that spoke of safety and home and just being  _ protected _ for once in his life. He stared down at Paz, a little lightheaded, drinking in the glorious image: his husband’s muscles bulging beneath his armor as he held up Din’s weight, dark skin covered in a sheen of sweat and eyes sharp with concentration. And, of course, his cock: long and thick as it jutted up between Din’s thighs, so fucking  _ big _ and slick with lube and just waiting to split him open. 

“Fuck.” Bracing one hand on Paz’s pauldron—he didn’t even need to grip hard, holy shit, Paz had his entire weight because his husband was just  _ that fucking strong _ —he worked the other down between them to grasp that big, beautiful cock, stroking once just to hear the older man moan. “Oh fuck, oh gods, I need you so bad—”

Paz huffed, and there was a hint of strain in his voice but his grip beneath Din’s thighs remained firm as he shot him a smirk, sweat running down his brow. “Then take what you want, love. I’m yours.”

And, well, who was Din to say no to that? With a little shifting around and Paz somehow managing to lift him another fucking inch, Jen’Issik, he finally felt his husband’s hot cockhead bump and catch against his rim and then Paz hummed and slowly lowered him and then. Just.

“ _ Uhhhh. _ ” The sound was pushed out of him by his husband’s cock, the glide and stretch of it as he was filled once again and Din thunked his head back against the wall and panted through it. Gods, it felt so fucking good, he’d expected a burn or at least a bit of soreness but it was like his body just wanted to welcome Paz home, opening wide to accept his husband inside the second time that day with nothing but slick heat and burning-white pleasure licking through every nerve.

He could barely breathe it was so amazing and distantly he heard Paz groan, those strong hands shifting to drop him another inch, shoving that thick glorious cock so deep inside him as Paz’s balls pressed snug up against his rim. Din hissed a breath out through his teeth at the sheer pleasure of it, cock jumping and blurting precome, and when he looked down it was to see Paz staring up at him with pure wonder on his face like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, like Din was just a figment of his imagination and, well. They could hardly have  _ that. _

“Move,” he demanded, then squeaked when Paz shifted for better leverage, the motion brushing the head of his cock right up against his prostate. “F-Fuck, Paz, gods, just— _ fuck me, _ husband, please, I need—”

And Paz obeyed. Shoving forward he plastered Din to the wall and thrust up and gods, it was just. Din all of a sudden had  _ everything: _ the sight of his husband, rock-hard muscles straining and shifting with every rhythmic movement; the friction of solid beskar against his dick as he rutted into Paz’s cuirass; and of course the feel of the older man’s cock, sliding so deliciously inside and stuffing him so full he could barely breathe. Gods, it was so fucking hot: all of Paz’s considerable strength brought to bear in order to hold him up like this, Din unable to move and entirely at his mercy as his husband filled him over and over and he moaned and wrapped his legs around Paz’s waist, digging his heels into his husband’s back to encourage him harder,  _ deeper. _ He couldn’t get enough and holy fuck but Paz could keep him like this as long as he wanted, he could fuck Din for hours, days even, until he was a worn-out sloppy mess and begging to stop and still Paz would just keep going, fucking him until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, until he was just a warm wet sleeve for his husband’s giant cock—

His orgasm shocked him with its ferocity, everything whiting out for a second and he was probably screaming but he couldn’t even care, too busy riding the surging waves of pleasure as his cock twitched and jerked and spurted everywhere. When he finally came back to himself it was to Paz’s low groan, his husband’s expression broken open in wonder as his thrusts stuttered and went a little erratic and Din grabbed for him, awkward and uncoordinated but just needing him close, needing Paz to fuck him harder and faster and just, gods,  _ more... _

“Come on,” he slurred, mouth not working quite right, “Baby, please, I need— _ uhh— _ need to feel it, gods, I want your come—”

And Paz dropped his head and let out a long, shuddering groan. The lovely length inside him twitched and  _ released _ , filling him with liquid heat and Din bit his lip and clenched down, squeezing his inner walls around that big, beautiful cock even as his husband made a strangled little noise, ensuring nothing went to waste, wanting every last drop of Paz’s hot, delicious seed.

He had no idea how much time passed or how Paz managed to get them to the floor, but somehow he blinked and they were there. His husband lay back against the wall, panting as he reached up to undo his stained chestplate, and Din might have been a little concerned about the carelessness with which he tossed the armor away except he was too busy snuggling into the older man’s warmth, sighing as Paz wrapped strong arms around him.

“How’s your back?” he asked, worming his hand beneath Paz’s tunic to massage gently over still-heaving abdominal muscles.

“Uh.” His husband shifted around a bit, but his voice when he answered, though breathless, was light and without pain. “Okay. I’ll check in with Inyc tomorrow just in case, but nothing feels off right now.”

Din snickered. “Have fun explaining the reason for your visit.”

“Tch. With the show you put on? She knows.”

He laughed and pressed in closer. Paz hummed, warm fingers stroking gently through Din’s hair, and this: this was the best part, basking in the afterglow with his husband, that delicious ache in his ass and the trickle of warm come down the backs of his thighs. Din sighed and was just starting to doze when his husband’s voice rumbled up, low and comforting. “You know what that was?”

He yawned. “Amazing. Extraordinary. Life-changing.”

“Hm.” Paz kissed his forehead, and somehow Din felt his shit-eating grin as he said, “Frenetic.”

...Oh, the  _ bastard.  _ “I swear on everything holy, Vizsla—”

But Paz’s grin just widened, wicked and silly and oh so wonderful. “I think I made you  _ effervesce _ —”

“I will  _ stab _ you,” Din hissed, but he couldn’t put half his venom into the words, not when Paz laughed, bright and sweet with no hint of self-doubt. He rolled his eyes and tucked his head back beneath Paz’s chin, savoring the warm rumbles of his husband’s laughter, and couldn’t help but smile.

Adar Gulayl could say what he wanted. What he and Paz had didn’t need words.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Permissions:** All my works, including this one, can be translated and podficced without first asking my express permission. I ask only that you credit me as the original author and provide a link back to the original work. For anything else, please ask first. Thanks.


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